


roses are red

by scully_carter



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coffe shop AU, Fluff, Mentions of PTSD, More tags to be added, Multi, Valentine's Day, artist!Steve Rogers, lots of ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4402109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scully_carter/pseuds/scully_carter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there's a few weeks until Valentine's Day and love is in the air at Clint Barton's coffee shop</p><p>except Clint and pretty much everyone else agree that Valentine's Day is a stupid holiday</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Naked Flying Baby Bandwagon and Respective Pining

Clint wasn't a romantic sort of person. In fact, he thought the whole concept of Valentine's Day was unbearably cheesy. Flowers and chocolate and corny pickup lines weren't really his thing. And he didn't see what a half-naked winged baby had to do with anything.

But apparently a good portion of the population disagreed with him. People loved the flowers, chocolate, and corny pickup lines thing. They ate that shit up.

Business wasn't as great right now, and with Valentine's Day in a few weeks, he figured he should jump on the naked flying baby bandwagon. Why the hell not?

So here he was, alone in the coffee shop at 4AM, two hours before opening, hanging pink tinsel and red garlands strung with hearts, spreading out pink tablecloths and setting vases of (fake) roses on the counter.

He even hung a banner reading _Happy Valentine's Day! Come in for our Valentine's specials!_ in the window beside the sign proclaiming _Clint's Coffeehouse, open 6AM-7PM_

"What the hell have you done in here?" Darcy demanded when she entered the Coffeehouse ten minutes late for her morning shift. Not that it mattered anyway, because there were very few customers, and Bucky, the other barista, could more than hold his own.

"Not that it doesn't look nice, 'cause it does, but seriously, it looks like Cupid puked in here or something." she added.

Clint rolled his eyes. "I figured I should try to get into the whole Valentine's spirit. Might help attract more customers."

"Valentine's Day is bullshit and I don't understand why anyone ever thought it was a good holiday." Darcy muttered.

"The only reason you think that is because you've never had a serious relationship with anyone." Bucky said, elbowing Darcy.

"Neither have you." Darcy pointed out, joining him at the register.

Bucky shrugged. "Touché."

Unlike the others, Clint _was_ in a serious relationship. Probably. But he also liked someone else. He sighed.

Valentine's Day was officially the stupidest holiday ever.

The bell jingled, and Clint's not-girlfriend, Laura entered. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her light brown hair tucked into a braid.

Well, speak of the devil and the devil shall appear.

"Morning." she greeted, leaning across the counter to peck him on the cheek.

"Hey." Clint replied.

"You'll have your usual, Laura?" Darcy called.

"Yeah, thanks Darcy." Laura replied, smiling. She had such a sweet smile. It was one of the things Clint loved best about her.

"I love the decorations. It looks really cute." Laura said.

Laura was one of the people who think Valentine's Day is super adorable and charming. Clint didn't mind pretending he agreed, as long as Laura was happy.

Laura sipped her latte and browsed through something on her phone. Clint took this opportunity to escape into the back and pretend to take inventory.

Darcy poked her head into the back room some time later. "Natasha's here." Clint perked up at that, but Darcy didn't seem very happy.

"Look, take it from someone who has had a lot of experience with cheating-don't." Darcy told him.

Clint spluttered. "I don't...I'm not! Nat and I are just friends."

Darcy raised an eyebrow, but she didn't press him for further details; she returned to her spot behind the register. Clint heard her shout, "Tony, will you please fucking _shut up,_ I'm trying to take this order."

Normally as her boss, he would scold her not to be rude to customers, but it was Tony. The guy could be such an asshole he actually kind of deserved it. Do unto others and all that.

"Hey, Natasha!" Clint called, stepping out into the coffe shop.

Natasha was sitting with Pepper, Tony's girlfriend. She waved, flashing her wolffish smile, then returned to her conversation with Pepper.

Nat was everything Laura wasn't. She had bright red hair and steely blue-grey eyes, was mysterious and elegant and unpredictable. She was snarky where Laura was sweet, and unbelievably stubborn.

And Clint loved them both.

 

The coffeehouse was loud. It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. But Bucky was often uncomfortable in crowded, noisy places. He hated crowds. It was too much all at once.

So that's why Darcy found him hiding in the back room in the middle of his shift.

"There you are! I need your help out there-" she broke off, noticing the slightly wild, unsettled look in his eyes.

"Oh." she realized, voice soft. "Hey, it's okay."

He numbly shook his head.

Darcy rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You can do this."

_Gunshots echoed around him. Screams, raw with pain. His screams. He was frozen with fear. His heart was pounding out of his chest._

"Bucky! Bucky!" It was Darcy, shaking his shoulder. "Hey, you listenin' to me? You're gonna be fine. You can do this. Come on." She offered her hand.

He took it, gripping it like it was a lifeline.

She squeezed his fingers reassuringly and led him back to the register.

He was pretty damn glad she'd coaxed him back out there, because there was an absolutely gorgeous guy waiting to order.

Gorgeous was not an understatement. The guy was hot. Tall, built like some kind of Greek god, with fair hair and sky-blue eyes. And that jawline was incredible.

Darcy caught him staring and shot him a mischievous grin.

The guy paid for his coffee and retreated to his table.

Bucky's heart sank.

He was sitting with a beautiful girl with glossy brown curls.

Bucky glanced over at Darcy. She shrugged, looking just as disappointed as he was.

 _Why are the good-looking ones always taken?_ he wondered, sneaking another look across the coffee shop. The blond guy was smiling and laughing with the pretty girl.

The guy had a really nice smile.

He also had a tattoo, or several tattoos, Bucky noticed. He could see the edge of one underneath the collar of the guy's shirt.

 

Bucky wasn't the only one pining. Darcy was leaning against the counter, grateful for the lull in the unrelentless tide of customers. Maybe Clint's Valentines idea hadn't been such a shitty decision after all.

But now the morning rush hour was over, and only the regulars remained.

Natasha, Pepper, and Tony, 'chatting' over their coffee and donuts. And by chatting, Darcy of course meant arguing. As she watched, Nat flipped the finger at Tony. Pepper sighed and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

Bruce, on a stool at the counter beside Laura, typing furiously on his laptop, his glasses askew. He was probably emailing love letters or something to his supposed girlfriend, Betty. No one at the coffeehouse had ever actually met her. According to Bruce, her dad was super protective and didn't let her go out very much. _That_ , Darcy figured, _would be really shitty_.

Some gangly high school kid, Peter was probably his name, was hunched at the corner table, seemingly in the middle of a very intense Skype call.

And then Darcy's eyes wandered the table she was not supposed to be staring at. Her best friend, Jane, was sitting next to her boyfriend, Thor. (his family was a bunch of Norse mythology geeks or something) Thor had his arm around Jane (his very, very muscular arm, might she add) and Jane was smiling and laughing at something he was showing her on his phone. Across from them was Thor's brother, Loki. He looked grumpy and surly as ever, his long dark hair tucked behind his ears, revealing devilish green eyes and cheekbones that were so sharp and defined it was totally unfair.

Darcy sighed. _Goddamnit, get it together._

She tore her eyes away from the delicious eye candy and instead tried to focus on something productive, like wiping down the counter.

"I think I'm in love." she complained to Bucky.

"Join the club." he mumbled, gaze darting to the blond guy and his girlfriend.

"Wanna come over to my place for pizza and Netflix and to pine our respective crushes in silence together after your shift?" Darcy asked.

"Sounds awesome." Bucky agreed.


	2. Darcy Plays Matchmaker and Various (First) Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read so far!
> 
> sorry for any mistakes (typos, tense shifts, etc) 
> 
> feedback is appreciated 
> 
> enjoy!

Steve was being stupid and illogical.

So what if the barista at the little, obscure coffee shop Peggy had dragged him to had been cute?

Okay, maybe really cute. Really, really hot, even.

And the problem was, Steve couldn't stop thinking about him. He didn't even know the guy's name. Daydreaming about someone you've never officially met is completely ridiculous.

Being virtually unable to sleep because you can't stop thinking about someone you've never officially met is even worse.

He can't get the image out of his head-the long, messy dark hair, the (quite frankly,) amazing jawline, the sharp cheekbones, those dark blue eyes.

 _Stop that_. he chides himself. _It's no use lusting for someone you've barely met._

The next morning, he texts Peggy he's going for coffee and does she want to meet him?

She quickly replies that, while she'd love to meet him for coffee, she can't because she's busy checking out the adorable waitress at the diner.

Steve and Peggy aren't dating, not really. They used to be, but then Steve had his accident last year, and Peggy went back to London, and they just sort of grew apart.

They're still close friends, which is nice. And both of them are bi, so that's nice too. Birds of a feather.

The door to the coffee shop swings open with a pleasant jingle, and the rich aroma of coffee envelops Steve as he joins the queue to order.

 

The next morning Darcy catches sight of Hot Blond Guy entering the coffee shop.

"Hey, look who's here." she hisses, waving Bucky over. 

"Oh, no." Bucky groans.

"I'll take his order." Darcy assures him.

She's got that evil look in her eye. Bucky glares at her, expression stern. "Don't do anything stupid." he warns.

Darcy shrugs innocently and waves the next customer forward.

When it's Hoy Blond Guy's turn, he orders a bagel and an Americano. When he digs out a $20 to pay, Darcy leans forward.

"Hey, I'm gonna be straight with you-sorry, what's your name?"

He looks at her, bewildered. "Um, Steve."

"I'm gonna be straight with you, Steve. My friend over there has got the hots for you, but he's too shy to say anything. I'm just doing him a favour." she jerks her thumb in Bucky's direction, who is watching her with wide, panicked eyes.

Steve blushes.

Darcy smiles sweetly and hands him his coffee. "Enjoy."

 

Steve is sitting alone at a corner table when the cute barista approaches. He looks pleasantly scruffy, with stubble on his cheeks. He's wearing baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. His left hand is tucked in his pocket.

"Hey, um, whatever Darcy said to you...I'm really sorry. She can be...well..." he says awkwardly.

"It's not a big deal." Steve tries to sound nonchalant. His palms are sweating. Is he nervous? He's definitely nervous. "I'm Steve."

"Bucky."

Steve snorted. "Sorry...god, this is rude of me, but...your name is seriously _Bucky_?"

Bucky went red. "My real name is James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone calls me Bucky."

Steve nods. "That makes more sense. Sorry."

Actually, the name seems familiar. He just can't remember where he's heard it before.

"So, Bucky, do you want to...maybe meet up for coffee sometime?" Steve ventures.

Bucky smiles, a lopsided grin that makes Steve's heart flutter. "Yeah, okay. Here, I'll give you my number."

They exchange numbers and then Bucky is gone, disappearing back behind the counter.

And the thing is, they've hardly spoken, but Steve doesn't want him to leave.

 

Peter doesn't even like the _idea_ of online dating. So why the hell did he even sign up for this stupid website?

Probably because he's a lonely, boring loser, just like the rest of the lonely, boring losers who use dating sites.

It's just...after Gwen died, there never really was anybody else. And it's been a long time, and he needs to move on.

Hence the stupid online dating.

He's taking advantage of the free wifi at Clint's Coffehouse so he figures he might as well check his profile, and to his surprise, he has a request. It's from a guy, in his twenties, (bit of a stretch, since Peter's not even 19-not for another couple months anyway) but hey, worth a shot.

So he sends a reply to the guy (username: wadeloveschimichangas) and wadeloveschimichangas sends a reply right back.

They agree to meet for coffee tomorrow at 1PM.

Peter closes the site with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

 

Clint's Coffeehouse wasn't as good a place for a date as Foggy thought it would be.

"Oh, this is...cute!" Karen said, taking in the very pink decor.

They ordered their coffee and sat down at a very pink table.

"This is actually really good." Foggy commented, taking a sip of his coffee.

 _Seriously? We're gonna talk about how good the coffee is? Pathetic_.

He mentally slaps himself in the face.

 _Lamest date ever_.

They make small talk about work, about Karen's interest in journalism, about Foggy's cat.

_We're talking about the goddamn cat? Jesus, Nelson, you're shit at this dating thing!_

By the time they're ready to leave, Karen is looking a little disappointed.

So once they're outside, he just...goes for it. The late winter chill nips at their exposed faces, and Foggy leaned down toward Karen's flushed face. Her eyes widen, and then their lips are touching, soft and gentle.

Karen wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Her hair is soft, and smells sweet, like strawberries.

When they break apart, Karen is smiling.

 

Bucky didn't know what to wear. He hadn't been on a date in a long time, not since...well.

Not that it was really a date, of course.

He didn't even know where they were going! Steve had arranged (via text message) to meet him at the coffee shop. The actual date was a surprise.

Bucky didn't like surprises.

Eventually he settled on his usual jeans and a hoodie. He might as well be comfortably dressed in case of a uncomfortable situation.

He met Steve at 11AM sharp. Steve is waiting outside Clint's, hands in the pockets of his jeans, the edge of his tattoo just visible above the collar of his jacket. His blond hair is messy and ruffled. _Is it possible for him to be any more perfect_? Bucky wonders.

Steve smiles when he approaches, an easy, crooked grin. "Hey!"

"Hey." Bucky replies.

They go inside the coffee shop. Steve pays for Bucky's coffee-such a gentleman, than they set off down the street, kicking at the snow and gripping their coffee cups with both hands for warmth.

"So, what do you do?" Bucky asks, a little awkwardly.

"I'm an artist. I paint. I do a lot of charcoal sketches too." Steve replies, flashing that confident, easy smile. "What about you? Before you worked in the coffee shop, I mean?"

Ah. Here it comes.

"I, uh, was in the army."

Recognition shows on Steve's face. "Oh. _Oh_. I knew I'd heard your name somewhere."

"Yeah." Bucky's tone is bitter.

"God, that must have been rough." Steve says, his voice soft.

Bucky doesn't say anything.

"Well, uh." Steve clears his throat. He's fighting to keep his tone cheery.

 _Fuck_. Bucky knows he's probably ruined their date. No one would want to get involved with him. Too much baggage.

But Steve doesn't seem put off. He keeps talking. "I was in an accident last year. Plane crash. Was in the hospital for months, comatose. When I woke up, I had no idea where I was. Felt like I'd been out for years. After that, everything was just kind of...upside down. I had to break it off with my girlfriend, Peggy. I had no money, no job, nothing."

He paused. "I guess we all have our struggles."

"Yeah." Bucky murmured.

Steve linked his hand with Bucky's.

Bucky didn't let go.

" _Foggy. Foggy. Foggy._ "

Matt groaned and rolled over. It was probably around 4AM. Why was Foggy calling him so early?

" _Foggy. Foggy. Foggy."_ the automated voice continued to drone.

"Alright, alright." Matt mumbled, answering. "Hello?"

"Matt! Hey!"

"Foggy, what time is it?"

"Um, half past three."

"In the morning? What the hell, Foggy?"

"I know, I'm sorry." Matt could almost hear him wince.

"I just needed to talk to you! Oh my god-sorry, gosh. Do you what me to say gosh? I know you're Catholic..."

"It's fine, Foggy." Matt sighed. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Oh yeah. I just had the most amazing sex-"

"Okay, Foggy..." Matt said, grimacing. He really didn't need to hear the details of Foggy's sex life.

"-with Karen." Foggy continued enthusiastically.

"Okay, Foggy."

"I'm telling you, man, it was fantastic-"

Matt hung up.

 

"So. Details, details." Darcy demanded, balancing her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she contemplated the aisle of canned soup.

"Um, he was...nice?" Bucky mumbled.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Try again."

"We had coffee. We talked."

"That's it? Nothing...exciting?"

"Darcy, it was our first date." Bucky sighed. "Of course we didn't have sex."

"What do you mean, of course you didn't have sex? Who doesn't have sex on the first date? Chicken or tomato?"

"...What?"

"Chicken soup or tomato soup? I'm at the grocery store."

"At 3AM?"

"I couldn't sleep. Please tell me you at least kissed him."

"No."

"Oh my GOD, Barnes. You need to make your move!"

"You sound like a teenage girl."

"Well, you sound like a old-fashioned gentleman who doesn't have sex on the first date."

"What's wrong with that?"

Darcy sighed and shook her head. "Goodnight, Barnes." she said pointedly, and hung up.

 

Peter is nervous. Like, really, really nervous. He's never been on a blind date before. He's waiting at the corner table in the coffee shop, watching the door tensely, imagining every strange young guy who comes in must be wadeloveschimichangas.

He almost started to think Wade wasn't coming, until a guy in a red-and-black hoodie (with the hood up) and a baseball cap pulled low over his face approached the table.

"Hey, Peter?" the guy asked. He has a nice voice. Peter couldn't really see his face, because of the hat and the hood.

Peter nods.

Wade makes a relieved sound and flops down in the seat across from him. "Hi. I'm Wade."

"Hi." Peter replies, shifting in his seat awkwardly. "Sorry. I've, uh, I've never done one of these before. A blind date, I mean."

Wade shrugs. "Neither have I, really. I'm not the romantic type."

"So, uh, Wade. What do you do? Do you have a job?" Peter asks, trying to make conversation.

So far, it doesn't seem to be going very smoothly.

Wade chuckles. "Ah, asking the important questions, huh? Okay, I'll bite. I teach online fitness courses. You?"

"Photography. I'm taking some university courses too. I used to intern at Oscorp." Peter laughs shakily. "And by 'intern' I mean I snuck in. To see my girlfriend."

Wade laughs. "My kind of guy. I like you already, Pete."


	3. Awkward Love Triangles and Other Mistakes

Wanda Maximoff was a lot of things, but soppy wasn't one of them.

Practical? Yes. Dreamy? Hell no.

So why was she so distracted by the tall, handsome man at the coffee shop? Also, he was _English_. She was all but swooning. Very uncharacteristic.

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Are you even listening? Wanda? Earth to Wanda!"

He flapped his hand in front of her face. She swatted it away.

"Screw off, Pietro." she snapped.

"You screw off." he shot back, flicking his straw wrapper at her.

Wanda scoffed and turned away, chin in her palm.

"Hey, quit staring." Peitro said, nudging her arm.

"I'm not." Wanda muttered.

"You are too. I don't know what you see in him."

"I'm not staring at him!" Wanda exclaimed, leaping to her feet.

And, in the process, knocking over her coffee cup.

She cried out as hot coffee splashed across her legs.

_Ow. Ow ow ow. Fuck._

She winced and limped toward the bathroom, her skirt soaked from the scalding liquid.

"Pardon me, miss...but are you alright?"

A firm but gentle hand brushed her elbow. The voice was kind, worried even, with a soft British accent.

It was _him_.

"I, uhm, I'm fine. Uh. Thank you." Wanda stammered.

She stumbled past him into the bathroom and cleaned the spill up as best she could with paper towels, tap water, and an automatic hand dryer.

Pietro was waiting for her right outside. "Are you okay?" he asked, gripping her shoulders.

She nodded shakily. "I'm okay." He gave her a quick hug, obviously relieved.

Sometimes he worried too much.

But sometimes that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

 

"So, I heard about your date." Peggy said, bumping her shoulder against Steve's. "How was it?"

Steve blushed and ducked his head. "It was...good."

Peggy smiled. "Mmhmm."

Steve caved. "Okay, yeah, he's...amazing, actually."

Peggy let out a tiny squeal. "Oh, Steve, I'm so happy for you!"

"God, Peg, it wasn't even really a date. It's not like we're getting married or anything."

"Just taking it slow, huh? That is so like you."

Steve threw a pillow at her. "Shut up. Anyway, what about you? Still stalking that waitress?"

Peggy sniffed. "I am not stalking her, thanks very much. And her name is Angie, and she's absolutely adorable."

"Well, we'll see about that." Steve teased.

"Oh, be quiet." Peggy said, rolling her eyes.

 

Natasha loved Clint. She always had. He knew her in a way that others couldn't. He could get past her shields. But she didn't _need_ to love him. She loved him in the way you love your favourite song, or your favourite t-shirt. It was comfortable, easy. She didn't want to start a relationship with him. She didn't need to. She knew that he was happy with Laura, and that was enough for her.

Apparently it wasn't enough for Clint.

When Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey invited her out for drinks, she in turn invited Clint.

That was mistake number one.

Clint bought her a couple drinks. They talked, their usual light banter. Clint's voice started to slur as he got drunk.

"Okay, champ, let's call it a night. Come on, I'll take you home." she said, patting his shoulder.

"Natasha...you're so pretty." he mumbled, stumbling after her.

They got in the car. Clint demanded she turn on the radio. She did. He began to loudly sing along to Ariana Grande. Clint didn't even _like_ Ariana Grande. Well, at least sober Clint didn't.

Natasha was relieved when she pulled up in front of Clint's apartment. He'd moved on to belting Uptown Funk and Natasha couldn't take it much longer.

"Okay, here you go." she said, turning off the radio. Clint pouted a little.

"Time to go home and sleep off your inevitable hangover." she told him.

He didn't move. He was such a child when he was drunk.

"Clinton Barton, get out of my car-" she broke off when he leaned across the gear shift and pressed his lips to hers.

He tasted like alcohol.

His hands reached up and cupped her face softly, gently pulling her closer.

_She shouldn't be doing this._

She recoiled, shoving him away. "Get out."

"Natasha-" he began to protest.

"Get out of my fucking car." she snapped.

He opened the door and slunk out. She watched him walk slowly inside the building, shoulders hunched.

Once he was inside, she sighed and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. "Oh, Clint." she muttered. "What have you done?"

 

"Morning, Buckaroo." Darcy said cheerfully, strolling into the coffee shop ten minutes late, as usual.

Bucky grunted in response.

He looked exhausted. He hadn't shaved, his face was gaunt and hollow, and he had dark shadows under his eyes, like purple bruises.

Darcy frowned at him, concerned. "You okay?" she asked softly.

"Just tired." he muttered.

"Nightmares?"

He nodded.

"Wanna take a break? I'll cover your shift." Business was slow today. She could handle it.

But Bucky was stubborn. "I'm fine." he insisted.

Darcy shrugged and joined him at the counter, but even though he claimed he was okay, he didn't look it. She was worried about him. He was edgy and irritable, he tended to zone out, and he clearly wasn't sleeping well. The flashbacks and nightmares seemed to be getting worse.

"You're sure you're okay?" she murmured, bumping her elbow against his.

"I told you, I'm fine." he replied shortly, ducking into the back room to grab some clean plates.

The bell above the door jingled pleasantly, and Steve strolled inside. Darcy gave him a little wave, and he approached the counter.

"He's in the back." she said, before he could ask.

"Thanks." Steve said, blushing a little.

When Bucky emerged, he looked surprised to see Steve. "Steve. Hey."

"Hi." Steve said, smiling brightly. He seemed oblivious to Bucky's discomfort. "I, uh, I enjoyed our last...date, so I was wondering if you'd like to, um, you know, hang out again sometime? I know a really great restaurant."

Bucky shrugged. "Sure. Sounds good."

Steve looked relieved. "Okay. Great. See you around."

Once he'd left, Darcy clapped her hands delightedly. "Somebody's got himself a date! Aw, you guys are too cute."

"Shut up." Bucky muttered, but he was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one was kinda short I was struggling to write it for some reason
> 
> I guess I should warn you guys that updates might be a little slow but I'll try to post a chapter or two every week-just bear with me
> 
> thanks for reading and feedback is appreciated, the comments I'm getting are lovely and I'm sorry I don't have a lot of time to reply or anything...
> 
> I hope everyone likes it so far (and sorry for any errors)


	4. Martha, Motorcycles, and Massive Hangovers

When Wade told Peter he would pick him up from school, Peter had been expecting a really cool car. Wade seemed like the kind of guy to drive a Jeep, or a BMW, or a Corvette.

Instead he pulled up in a bright red Volkswagen T1 Microbus with a mural of pizza slices and skulls along the sides.

Wade honked the horn loudly. "Hey, Petey!"

Peter sighed. Guess you can't have everything.

"Hey, Wade." he replied, sliding into the passenger seat. "Um...nice car."

Wade grinned. Well, Peter assumed he did. His face was shielded by his usual hood and cap ensemble. "I know, right? Isn't Martha beautiful?"

Peter snorted. "Martha?"

Wade nodded sagely. "Yep. This is Martha."

Peter turned away rested his head on the flimsy windowpane.

Wade glanced over. "Rough day?"

Peter shrugged. "I guess."

Wade leaned over the gearshift and planted a quick kiss on Peter's cheek.

Peter felt himself go bright red.

Wade chuckled and turned back to the steering wheel.

Maybe Martha wasn't so bad after all.

 

Clint woke up dreadfully hungover.

He groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to ease the pounding in his skull.

He stumbled out of bed and went to find an aspirin. He entered the kitchen and was assaulted by a delicious smell of cooking.

"Hi. How's your head?" Laura murmured.

"Laura?" Clint mumbled.

"Yeah. I let myself in." she explained, brandishing her key to his apartment. "Nat texted me and said you had a bit of a rough night, so I made you breakfast." she continued.

Clint moaned and sat down at the table. _Natasha_. He was so screwed.

Laura's hand stroked his cheek. "You want an aspirin, babe?"

Clint grunted something that might have been a yes, and Laura brought him a glass of water and a bottle of aspirins.

"Thanks." he muttered.

"Need anything else? I made toast and eggs."

Clint felt nauseous at the thought of food, but he figured he should try to eat something, so he said, "Just toast."

"Sure." Laura replied softly, pressing a brief kiss to the top of his head.

He managed to eat some toast and downed two glasses of water before stumbling back to bed. A few minutes later, Laura crawled in beside him and snuggled against his chest.

"Don't you have to go to work?" Clint mumbled.

"Work can wait." came her whispered reply. "Just rest."

Clint stroked her hair and just lay there for a while, trying to ignore the sledgehammer that was beating away inside his skull and just breathing in her sweet scent, like soap and wildflowers.

"No way." Bucky said, shaking his head stubbornly. "No way I'm getting on that."

He meant, of course, the motorcycle Steve had had the audacity to park in front of his apartment building.

"What if I fall off?" Bucky protested.

Steve laughed. "You won't fall off. I'll be right there. I won't let you fall off, I promise."

Bucky hesitantly climbed onto the seat behind Steve and awkwardly linked his arms around Steve's waist, trying to look anywhere but at Steve's shoulders, which he had a very good view of. They were very distracting shoulders.

The motorcycle roared to life and Steve kicked off from the curb, speeding down the street. Bucky found he was actually kind of enjoying this.

They pulled up in front of a very fancy, very expensive-looking restaurant. Crowds of people milled around inside, waiting for tables.

"Don't worry, I reserved a table for us." Steve assured him.

Once inside the restaurant, there was a sudden onslaught of noise. Music, laughter, people talking, people shouting, glasses clinking, forks scraping and pots clanging.

It was too much.

Nauseated with memories of scalpels scraping, prisoners screaming, gunshots all around, Bucky pushed his way back toward the doors and stumbled out onto the sidewalk.

Steve followed him, forehead creased with worry. "Hey, what's wrong? Everything okay?"

Bucky sat down on the curb and stuck his head between his knees, trying to clear his thoughts. Steve knelt beside him and rubbed his back gently. Bucky sighed. He'd probably screwed up their date with his stupid anxiety.

"Sorry." he muttered. "I...don't think I can go in there. It's too...loud."

"No problem." Steve replied easily. "We can have dinner at my place if you'd rather."

Bucky looked up at him, surprised again at how Steve doesn't mind Bucky's various...issues.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds alright." he says.

Steve smiles. "Come on, then." He gets to his feet and reaches down to help Bucky up. They climb on the motorcycle and this time Bucky isn't nervous. He wraps his arms around Steve and leans against him, his face pressed against Steve's neck.

"Thank you." he whispers. Steve doesn't reply, but Bucky knows he heard him.

 

Whatever Steve said, Peggy was most certainly not stalking Angie.

She just liked to hang out the diner and ogle at her.

Actually it didn't sound any better when she put it that way.

She was crushing on Angie. Hard.

She liked Angie's curly hair, shot through with golden strands that gleamed when the light hit them, she liked her big blue eyes and the shade of pink that she painted her nails.

It had been a while since Peggy had liked anyone in this way. Not since she'd broken it off with Steve. She'd had some flings, of course, back in London, but those were short-lived. This was different. _Angie_ was different.

Peggy sighed and stirred her now-cold cup of coffee.

"Need a refill?" came a pleasant, chirpy voice.

Peggy glanced up. Angie. There was so much she wanted to say. _Hi I think you're really cute and I have this giant crush and you and would you like to get drinks sometime or something?_

She smiled and instead settled for a simple, "Yes, please."

 

"This is it. Sorry for the mess." Steve said, unlocking the door to his apartment.

Bucky surveyed the room. It probably used to be a living room/kitchen, but now it was more like an art studio with a couple couches and a refrigerator.

"Wow." was all he could manage. There were painting everywhere, some half-finished. Bucky couldn't pick a favourite. They were all amazing.

"So, I guess I'll start dinner ...is spaghetti okay? I haven't been to the store in a while." Steve asked, rummaging around in the cupboards.

"Sure." Bucky replied with a shrug. He wasn't much of a cook himself. He mostly lived off ramen noodles and scrambled eggs.

Steve put a pot on the stove and boiled the pasta. Bucky helped him chop vegetables and make the meatballs. Sometimes their arms would brush accidentally and Bucky would feel his face heat up.

"Okay. Bon appetite." Steve announced in an incredibly horrible attempt at a French accent as he set two plates of spaghetti on the table.

"Dork." Bucky muttered, spearing a meatball with his fork.

Steve laughed and leaned forward.

Bucky's eyes widened as Steve tilted his head toward him. He felt a brief stab of panic, but it was replaced quickly by lust, and he closed the distance between them, mashing his lips with Steve's. He closed his eyes and leaned into it, parted his lips slightly.

Steve slid into his lap, hands on Bucky's hips. Bucky ran his fingers through Steve's hair, down the his neck, across his chest. He felt Steve shiver at the cool touch of the metal arm, heard him groan quietly when Bucky nibbled gently on his bottom lip.

It was over too quickly for Bucky's liking.

Luckily, after they managed to put their dinner in their mouths rather than each other's tongues, Steve showed Bucky the bedroom.

Needless to say, it was the best date Bucky had had in ages.

Darcy was going to freak when she found out.

But in a good way. Probably

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any errors, although I have proofread this about four times, so i really hope I caught all the mistakes
> 
> feedback is appreciated


	5. Gossip and Girls Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update-this chapter involved a lot of procrastination...I'm working on the next one and I'm hoping to get it posted within the week. as always, feedback is appreciated. thanks for reading!

Steve woke up with Bucky curled beside him, his metal arm draped across Steve's chest.

Steve sighed contentedly and rotated so that he was facing Bucky, their noses brushing.

Bucky's face was so...relaxed in sleep. At ease. Steve gently traced his thumb over Bucky's cheek. Bucky flinched at the touch, eyes open, alert.

"Sorry." Steve whispered.

"S'okay." Bucky mumbled. He burrowed closer to Steve, pressing up against his side, resting his head on Steve's arm.

"Sleep okay?" Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. He was tracing the edges of Steve's tattoo, a swirling pattern of colour broken by the dark silhouettes of birds and flowers painted across his skin in poisonously bright colours, surrounding the skeletal figure in the centre, a grinning skull with empty eyes, coloured in a dangerous shade of red.

"No nightmares." Bucky finally admitted.

"That's good." Steve said, pressing his face into Bucky's hair. Bucky laced his metal fingers with Steve's and brought Steve's hand to his mouth, gently brushing his lips across Steve's knuckles.

"I have to get to work." Bucky murmured, voicing the reality that Steve dreaded. He didn't want this to end. He just wanted to trap this moment in a glass jar, like a glowing, happy firefly, and live there forever.

The bed felt freezing cold after Bucky left.

 

Today, for once, Darcy was on time.

"Well? Where's my attendance award?" she demanded, strolling into the coffee shop.

Clint raised his eyebrows. "What attendance award? Don't you get those for being on time?"

Darcy scoffed. "I am on time, in case you haven't noticed."

"You? On time? I think maybe you should just go ahead and take the day off. You might be coming down with something." Clint teased.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Where's Barnes?"

Clint shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe he's sick."

Darcy's stomach knotted with worry. For Bucky, "sick" usually meant something a little more debilitating that just the flu.

She was debating calling him, but he stumbled in the door, hair disheveled, eyes a little wild.

"There you are, Buckaroo. I was getting worried there for a minute." she said, giving him a quick hug.

"Yeah. Sorry I'm late, Clint." Bucky said, shrugging apologetically.

"No worries." Clint said, also shrugging in response.

Darcy rolled her eyes. Men.

Once Clint had gone into his office the back room-to play computer games while Darcy and Bucky worked their asses off, no doubt-Darcy turned to Bucky, hands on her hips.

"So? What was it like? Was it horrible? It was probably horrible."

Bucky frowned. "What?"

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "Come on, don't hold out on me here. You're wearing the same clothes as you did yesterday, you've got the crazy, disheveled sex-hair...I'm assuming you did it last night with that Hot Blond Guy."

"Steve." Bucky muttered. "His name is Steve."

"So you did do it! Or rather, you did him, am I right?" Darcy teased, bumping her hip against his. Well, it was more like his thigh, considering the height difference.

He went red.

"Aha!" Darcy exclaimed.

"Hey guys, can I get a caramel latte?" Natasha asked, sliding up to the counter and interrupting their conversation.

Darcy held up a hand. "Just a sec, Natasha. We're discussing Bucky's wild sex life."

Bucky raised his hands in defeat and escaped into the back room.

Darcy chuckled and turned back to Natasha.

"So, Pepper and I are going out for dinner and drinks tomorrow night. Just us girls. Wanna join?" Natasha asked, paying for her latte.

Darcy shrugged. "Yeah, okay. What the hell, huh?"

Nat grinned. "Great. See you tomorrow."

 

"Your hair is parted all weird. Let me fix it." Claire said, grabbing a comb and attacking Matt's head.

"Hey! Hey, ow! Is it really that bad?" he exclaimed.

"Yes." Claire replied. "God, what did you do? Brush it with a weedwhacker? It's all tangled."

"Well, I am blind, so brushing my hair is difficult enough as it is." Matt said dryly.

Claire smacked him gently. "Oh, you be quiet. There, all done." She patted his hair in a way that could only be described as smugly.

"Thanks. Am I free to go?" Matt asked.

"Not yet." Claire said, planting a kiss on his lips. It was quick, lips closed, nothing more than a peck. "Okay, now you can go." she said, gently shoving him toward the door.

"You have the night shift tonight?" Matt asked on his way out.

"Yeah. I'll come by tomorrow. We'll do dinner?" Claire suggested, shrugging on her coat.

Matt smiled, taking his cane from it's hook by the door. "Dinner sounds fantastic. I'll call you."

 

Mornings were kind of a weird thing at Wanda and Pietro's shared apartment.

As if Wanda didn't see enough of her brother already. She had to literally  _live_ with him.

Every morning at exactly 6:15 Pietro would wake up, get dressed, and go for a run. It was 40 minutes of blissful quiet for Wanda, wherein she would shower, get dressed, and do her hair and makeup.

When Pietro returned he would take an insufferably loud shower-his favourite song was Don't Stop Believin', and he sang it at the top of his lungs and horribly off-key every single morning.

After his shower he would grab a bowl of that stupid sugary cereal that Wanda despised, "Lucky Charms" or whatever it was called, while Wanda settled for something a little more nutritious and made herself blueberry pancakes or French toast. Then they'd part ways for the day, both to their separate jobs.

Usually they'd walk together and stop for coffee, but Pietro was running late today, so Wanda stopped at Clint's by herself. She ordered her coffee and dawdled a bit by the counter, subtlety scanning the room, not looking, she told herself, for him.

He _was_ here. She tried not to stare.

Their eyes met. His were very green.

 _Oh shit_. He was coming over. Wanda eyed the door. Could she make a run for it? Too risky. Not to mention rude. So she stood, trapped, a deer in the headlights, as he approached.

"Hello. Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if perhaps you'd let me buy you coffee sometime?" he asked, ever so polite.

Wanda stuttered. "Um, yes, I'd like that."

He smiled. "And I never did catch your name?"

"Wanda." she replied.

"Wanda." he repeated in his pleasant English accent. "That's a lovely name. I'm called Vision. I'm not entirely sure why."

Wanda smiled, amused. "Vision. That's very...unusual."

"Peculiar, you mean. Strange" he supplied.

"No, no!" Wanda laughed. "I like it. I like unusual."

She glanced at the screen of her phone, checking the time. "Oh no! I'm nearly late. I should go. Nice meeting you, Vision!" she waved, hoping it seemed apologetic, and hurried off, barely hearing Vision call a hasty goodbye behind her.

 

"So, what should we start with? Shots? I haven't had a night out in a while." Jane said, a little breathless, as she slid into a booth beside Natasha, Pepper, and Darcy.

"How about cocktails?" Natasha suggested, heading over to the bar. "What does everyone want?"

"Surprise us." Darcy called.

"Put it on Tony's card." Pepper reminded her.

Natasha returned with their drinks, and soon they were all pleasantly light-headed.

"So, I'm kind of out of the loop, what with work and everything. Did I miss anything important?" Jane asked.

"Not really." Darcy said.

"Clint kissed me." Natasha blurted. She felt like it was some kind of parasite, this secret gnawing at her. She felt guilty, though she shouldn't, and she just needed to escape it, get it out, scream it to the world.

Darcy winced.

Pepper patted Natasha's hand comfortingly. "Oh, sweetie."

Nat felt her cheeks burning. "He's just so...stupid! He loves Laura, I know he does, and he's my friend, but not...you know, like that. But he's still chasing after me like a lost puppy."

Jane shook her head sadly. "That guy needs to get his shit together."

Natasha snorted, feeling a lot better already. "Damn right."

"You know, I caught Tony and one of the interns in their underwear behind the photocopier once."

"Oh my god. That is _so_ Tony." Darcy chuckled.

"That was last Tuesday." Pepper continued.

"What did you do?" Jane asked, eyes wide. She didn't really have much experience in this field, since her realationship with Thor was utterly devoted and completely stable.

Natasha laughed. "She slapped him, of course. I think I caught it on camera."

Now it was Pepper's turn to laugh. "Seriously? Oh my god."

Natasha nodded smugly. "Greatest eleven seconds of my life."

"What about the intern?" Jane asked, still enraptured by their tales of horrible cheating boyfriends.

"Oh, I fired her ass. It pays to be CEO." Pepper said, waving her hand nonchalantly.

Darcy whistled appreciatively. "I think I should start working for Stark."

"It's not as fun as it sounds." Natasha warned. " _Where's that paperwork, Natasha? Could you get me a coffee, Natasha?_ And I thought Tony was high-maintenance!"

"Hey!" Pepper exclaimed, swatting her arm.

Soon they were all giggling.

She wasn't necessarily a giggling sort of person, but Natasha felt more at ease than she had in a while. Not since Clint...well. It felt good to get that load of her chest.

She raised her glass. "How about a toast?" she suggested.

"Cheers." the other women chorused.


	6. Blind Dates (pun intended) and Clint is Still Confused-but he has a Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I felt a little guilty about taking so long to post chapter 5 plus my friend was nagging me to update this so here's chapter 6 a little ahead of schedule

Peggy felt like singing.

Or maybe screaming, she wasn't sure which.

She had somehow managed to agree to a date with Angie,and she was somewhere between ecstatic and panicking. What would she say? What would she wear? What if Angie didn't like her as much as she liked Angie?

When she was with Steve, there hasn't been nearly as much planning required. They just kind of...happened.

 _Don't think about Steve._ she chided herself _. That's in the past. Think about Angie_.

Somehow, that didn't relax her at all.

But she put on her best skirt and her favourite pair of heels and forced herself to take deep breaths.

When she arrived at the restaurant, Angie was waiting outside, wearing a light blue coat that matched her eyes perfectly, and a pink scarf and equally pink earmuffs. She looked absolutely adorable.

"Peggy!" Angie squeaked, surprising Peggy with a hug. "You look so nice!"

Peggy couldn't bring herself to agree. She was wearing a plain black skirt and a red blouse underneath her army-green coat.

But she smiled through her nervousness. "Thank you. I, uh, I like your earmuffs." she said, cursing herself for sounding so awkward.

Angie didn't seem to mind. She patted the earmuffs proudly. "Thanks. Shall we go in?"

She gestured to the restaurant that was not, in fact, a restaurant. Peggy read the sign above the door.

_ Chocolatier & Fine Candy  _

A restaurant she could do. A candy shop?

Yikes.

 

"Ugh. It's always so dark in here. Where's the light switch?" Claire demanded, sweeping into the kitchen.

Matt felt along the wall until he found the switch. "It's here." he said, turning it on.

"Much better." Claire said. "So, what's for dinner?"

Matt mentally went through the contents of his fridge. Milk, expired cheese, blueberry jam that was four months old...

"Canned ravioli?" he suggested, tone apologetic.

Claire sighed. "Let's go out. I'm sick of canned food."

"Well, cooking is, believe it or not, very difficult for me, since I am blind." Matt said. He ate out most nights anyway.

"That joke is, believe or not, getting old." Claire chided, lacing her fingers with his.

They went to a little diner on the corner. Matt was a frequent customer, so they didn't get too many weird looks when the customers or the waitstaff saw him with his cane.

Claire guided him to a table and they sat. She offered to read the menu to him, but he already knew what he was going to order, being a regular there and all.

The food was good, as it usually was. It wasn't exactly a five-star joint, but Claire didn't seem to mind.

"So, are you going to be a regular gentleman and pay for my food?" Claire asked once they'd finished.

Matt patted his pockets. Oops. No wallet. "Uh, no, sorry. No money." he said ruefully.

He heard Claire shake her head. "Matthew Murdock." she tsked. He heard her open her wallet, and the crinkle of paper as she handed the waitress a couple of bills.

"Coming?" Claire asked, offering her hand. Matt eased himself up, leaning on his cane and trying not to bump into any tables. He wrapped his arm around Claire's waist and pressed a quick kiss to her temple as they made their way slowly back to his apartment.

 

Peter was nervous. He kept fidgeting. Wade supposed he had a right to be nervous, since Wade was in his bedroom.

It wasn't a very big bedroom, but it would do. Not that they'd be doing anything in it at this point-the door was open and Peter's Aunt May was just down the hall.

Wade had decided he liked Aunt May. She was a little irritable, sure, but it seemed like they'd really hit it off when Wade had accidentally knocked her fancy decorative plate off the wall in the foyer. If you could call it a foyer. It wasn't a big apartment. The word foyer didn't really seem to qualify.

There was a cardboard shoebox half shoved under the bed, the lid ajar. Wade could see the glossy edges of photographs. These must be Peter's photos. Wade gingerly lifted the box.

It might be rude to look at these without Peter's permission, but Wade wasn't a very polite person to begin with, so he opened the box and began sifting through the photos. Photos of empty school hallways and photos of kids Peter's age-his friends or classmates, probably, and photos of the stray cat that liked to hang out around the corner from Peter's apartment, and photos of the sunset and of the sky, and at the very bottom, photos of Martha and photos of Wade.

Wade looked over at Peter, a little alarmed. "You took these?" he asked.

Peter nodded. He looked embarrassed. "Yeah."

Wade whistled appreciatively. "They're...great."

"Thanks." Peter ducked his head self-consciously. He gently pried a photo of Wade out of Wade's fingers. It had been taken while he was driving-he was turned away from the camera, arm hanging out the window. You couldn't see his face under his hood.

"This one is my favourite of you." Peter said sheepishly. "It would be better if you didn't have the hood though. If I could see your face."

His voice had grown quiet, and he was staring at Wade. His face was hard to read. Confused. Curious? A little...sad?

Wade looked away. "Trust me, it's better if you don't see my face." he muttered.

Peter rested his hand on Wade's knee. "What? Why?"

Wade snorted. "You really want to know why I wear the hood?"

He reached up and flicked it off.

Peter's eyes went wide.

Wade tried not to flinch away. He felt so...naked, so exposed, his lumpy, pockmarked skin bare and on display, ugly and raw, destroyed by the cancer.

Peter brushed his fingers carefully across Wade's disfigured cheek.

"So, are you gonna...scream and run? Tell me how hideous I am and that we have to break up?" Wade asked, fighting to keep his tone light. "Those are the usual reactions."

Peter frowned. "Why would I do that? I don't care what you look like. You're funny, and clever, and charming, and stubborn, and you're a total smartass, and I love that about you and you're amazing and what you look like doesn't matter." he said all in a rush.

He buried his face in Wade's shoulder, and Wade wrapped an arm around him and kissed his hair gently.

"Thank you, Peter." he murmured.

 

The Dog had been there for a couple days now. And it always came back, even if Clint sent Darcy out to shoo it away with a broom.

It was a very noisy dog, always barking and whining and scratching at the door, so one day after closing, Clint couldn't ignore the Dog's sad expression and let it in.

Upon entering the shop, the Dog proceeded to do two things. One: jump up to lick Clint's face in probably what it thought was an affectionate manner, but what Clint thought was just really disgusting. And two: steal Clint's pizza.

"Hey! Hey, give that back!" Clint demanded. The Dog did not.

"Dogs don't even like pizza!" Clint reasoned.

The Dog apparently disagreed. It danced over to where Clint was sitting and stuck it's wet nose into his lap.

"Hey! Go away." Clint muttered, shoving the Dog's face off of his knee. The Dog whined and curled up at his feet. Clint sighed.

"All right, all right, fine." He grudgingly gave the dog another slice of pizza and a couple pats on the head.

He ended up taking it home with him.

"Okay, settle down, you bastard." he muttered. Because upon entering his apartment the Dog had proceeded to do two things. One: slobber all over Clint in probably what it thought was a grateful, happy manner, but what Clint thought was just really disgusting. And two: slobber all over Clint's furniture.

Clint wiped the saliva off the couch and sat down to watch TV. The Dog climbed up on the couch beside him and settled its head in Clint's lap.

"You better be worth all this trouble, you know." Clint warned the Dog during a commercial break.

The Dog barked happily.

When the doorbell rang, the Dog went nuts. It leaped off the couch and began running in circles, yelping furiously.

"Hey, hey boy, come on, chill." Clint said, gently shoving the Dog out of the way so he could answer the door.

"Surprise!" Laura said, grinning.

Needless to say, Clint was very surprised. "Hey! Uh, what are you doing here?" he stammered.

"Well, duh. I came to surprise you. Also, I accidentally made too many cookies and I thought you'd appreciate some." she explained, ducking inside.

"Oh! Who's this adorable fellow?" she cooed, dumping her armful of Tupperware containers on the counter and bending down to greet the Dog.

"Oh, don't mind him. He's just the Dog." Clint mumbled.

Laura raised an eyebrow. "That's what you're calling him? The Dog?"

"He likes Pizza. I could call him the Pizza Dog."

Laura didn't look satisfied.

"Lucky?" Clint suggested. "'Cause you're lucky I didn't take you straight to the shelter." he scolded the Dog.

"Lucky." Laura nodded approvingly. "I like it. It suits him."

Clint snorted.

"Oh, don't be so grumpy about it." Laura scoffed. "You wouldn't have brought that Dog home if you didn't want it. You old softie." she teased, leaning over to press her lips to his.

It was short and sweet, much like Laura, and it left him both longing for more and wishing for something else. Someone else.

 _Oh no. Not this again. Get your shit together and stop thinking about Natasha. She's your friend, and that's it_. he scolded himself.

So he wrapped his arms around Laura and kissed her again.

"You know what sounds nice right now? A movie and some of those cookies. They look delicious." Clint suggested.

They curled up on the couch with the Dog in Clint's lap and watched some old sci-fi film Clint couldn't remember the name of.

The Dog seemed to like the cookies just as much as it liked pizza.

 

Peggy was panicking. Somehow there had been some sort of miscommunication.

She wasn't the type of girl with a sweet tooth. She didn't do _sweet_. Candy hearts and Valentine's chocolates weren't really her thing.

But she couldn't back out now, so she followed Angie into the candy shop.

Inside it smelled like chocolate and almonds and something fruity. Oranges, maybe. Angie grabbed her hand and led her around the shop, bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly and pointing out her favourite types of sweets.

Peggy couldn't be bothered to remember any of the names of the candies because _ANGIE WAS HOLDING HER HAND._

"What do you want, Peggy? The maple fudge is the best, if you ask me. Or the raspberry chocolate truffles. Or the-"

Peggy cut her off. "I've got an idea. You get something for me, and I'll get something for you, and then we'll surprise each other."

Angie clapped her hands. "Ooh, that's a great idea. I know just what to get you..." She raced off, disappearing behind a set of violently pink shelves.

Now Peggy just had to find the perfect candy to buy Angie.

What had she gotten herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more cartinelli in chapter seven, I promise
> 
> and just a note on the spideypool scene...from what I remember from the amazing spider-man movie Peter was into photography. I haven't seen the other spider-man movies or read the comics so I don't really know if it's canon outside of the amazing spider-man? anyway...
> 
> thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated 
> 
> also I didn't really edit this very thoroughly so sorry for any errors


	7. Candy Shops and Indie Rock

Natasha had allowed Steve to borrow her car to pick up Sam from the airport.

If he fucked up the car Nat was sure to kill him, so he drove slowly, the playlist Bucky had made for him playing quietly over the stereo.

_"What d'you mean, you've never heard of Florence + The Machine?" Bucky had asked, incredulous._

_When Steve shrugged and mumbled that he'd probably heard them on the radio, Bucky had grabbed Steve's phone and downloaded a whole playlist for him._

_"You can't be involved with me and not know Florence + The Machine." Bucky had declared._

Steve had to admit, it was pretty good. He was so caught up in the music he almost missed the turnoff to the airport.

Sam was waiting for him in the parking lot. "Nice wheels." Sam said, leaning against the driver's side window. "How'd you convince Natasha to let you borrow it?"

"It took a while." Steve admitted.

Sam tossed his suitcase into the back and slid into the passenger seat. Steve pulled out of the parking lot.

"So how was DC?" Steve asked. "It was alright. Riley took me to all the tourist hotspots. The White House, the Lincoln Memorial, the Air and Space Museum. We enjoyed that one."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, I bet."

Sam paused. "Florence + The Machine?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Uh, yeah. Friend of mine introduced me." he said.

"Oh, a friend, huh?" Sam asked, cracking a smile.

Steve felt his face go a little red. "Yeah. His name's Bucky. We're..." What were they? Dating? Bucky avoided words like 'boyfriend' and 'relationship.'

"We're...involved." Steve finally said, settling on the word Bucky had used.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Bucky? James “Bucky” Barnes?"

Steve looked over at Sam, startled. "You know him?"

"Oh yeah. From the VA. Damn, Steve, you picked a hell of a guy." Sam said, his tone grim.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve asked, bristling.

"Nothing, nothing." Sam said hurriedly. "Just...he's been through a lot, Steve. Be careful with him."

"Why? What's wrong with him?" Steve demanded. He glared at Sam, feeling very suddenly protective of Bucky.

"Jeez, man, I never said anything was wrong with him. He just...has some issues." Sam said carefully.

"He's fine." Steve snapped, turning back to the road.

They sat in strained silence, Florence + The Machine crooning quietly in the background, until Sam finally broke the tension.

"God, Steve, you're driving like a 90-year-old."

Steve couldn't suppress a smile. That was the great thing about being friends with Sam. Their fights never lasted very long.

 

"Who're you staring at?" Bucky asked, elbowing Darcy. Darcy had her chin in her palm, eyes fixed on something-or someone-across the room.

She straightened up abruptly. "What? Nothing. No one." she said hurriedly.

Bucky raised his eyebrows.

"It's none of your business anyway. Just a stupid crush." she mumbled, sighing.

Bucky followed her gaze to the table in the corner, where Thor's dark-haired brother was sitting alone, idly stirring his iced coffee and scrolling through something on his phone.

"Loki?" he asked, a little wary. Loki didn't seem like a very nice guy, as a general rule. Not someone you'd want to get...involved with.

Darcy glared at him. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Well, shit, sorry." Bucky muttered. He grabbed Darcy's elbow. "Just, you know, be careful. I wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

Darcy was his friend. Quite possibly his best friend, and he wouldn't want to see her get hurt.

She rolled her eyes, but she nodded. "Yeah, okay."

 

Peggy called Steve as soon as she got home.

"So?" he asked immediately. "How'd it go?"

She sighed. "Honestly, I have no idea."

She explained the candy shop situation.

Steve burst out laughing. Peggy felt her face flush bright red.

"Wow. Sorry. So it didn't work out?" he inquired once he'd caught his breath.

Peggy glanced over at the box of mint dark chocolate fudge, sitting innocently on the kitchen counter, tied with a pink ribbon.

"Well, not necessarily." she said, smiling slightly as she remembered Angie's excited smile when Peggy handed her the pink paper bag filled with cinnamon licorice twists.

_"Thanks, English. I had a great time." Angie said, cheeks pink from the cold._

_She leaned forward and gave Peggy an awkward little kiss on the cheek._

Peggy's smile grew wider at the memory, a goofy, love-struck grin.

"Peggy? You still there?" Steve's voice echoed through the phone, snapping her out of her daydream.

"Yeah. Sorry." she said distractedly.

"So when do I get to meet your new girlfriend?" he teased.

"She's not my girlfriend! Not yet, anyway." Peggy replied. "And you can meet her after I get to meet your boyfriend. What's-his-name. Bucky."

"I'm not sure he qualifies as my boyfriend just yet." Steve said hesitantly. "And you can meet him whenever you want. He works at Clint's."

"So long as you're buying me coffee, I'm game." she joked. "Bye, Steve."

"In your dreams." she heard him mutter, right before he hung up.

 

It was clearly Matt's fault. He should've been paying more attention to his surroundings. Usually he would notice if an unfamiliar stranger was about to plow right into him, but tonight he was focusing more on the case files for their latest client-a (fairly harmless) thief who had made a name for himself stealing people's socks. Why _socks_ , Matt had no idea.

That's how he found himself sprawled on ground, surrounded by a clamour of voices.

"Oh shit, man, I'm really sorry!" This was evidently the poor guy who'd bumped into him.

"Hey, back off, asshole. The hell are you doing, picking fights with blind guys!" Foggy exclaimed.

There was a shuffling noise as Foggy roughly shoved the guy.

Matt got to his feet, leaning on his cane. "It's fine, Foggy. I'm fine. I wasn't paying attention, we had a little collision, but it's fine, okay?" he said sternly, laying a hand on Foggy's shoulder.

"Right. Okay. Sorry, man." Foggy muttered.

"S'okay." the stranger muttered gruffly.

After Foggy left, the stranger started to apologize.

"I'm really sorry. I should've-"

Matt waved him off. "No, it was my fault. Matt Murdock, by the way."

The guy shook his hand. "Clint Barton. Hey, let me buy you a drink. As an apology."

Matt shrugged. Really, it _was_ his fault, as he kept insisting, but who was he to turn down free drinks.

So he sat with Clint and drank one of Josie's crappy beers (he wouldn't dare tell her how bad the beer really was...and why did it taste vaguely like eel?) and listened to Clint throw darts at the pockmarked old board in the corner. He hit the bullseye every time.

"Here, let me try." Matt said, holding out his hand for a dart.

"Um..." Clint started to protest, confused, but he seemed to think better of it and handed Matt the dart.

"Okay...tell me where. Don't wanna take someone's eye out." Matt said, turning to where he assumed the dartboard was.

"Left. Go left a bit. A little more. Okay, there." Clint directed.

Matt tossed the dart, feeling satisfied when he heard it hit the board with a soft _thwack_.

"You've got to be kidding me." Clint exclaimed. "No fucking way. You're sure you're blind?"

Matt grinned. _Bullseye_.

 

 

Aunt May wanted Wade to come over for dinner. _Dinner_. With _Aunt_ _May_ and _Wade_.

It sounded like a recipe for diaster.

But Aunt May was stubborn, so Peter had no choice but to invite Wade over. What was even worse was that Wade actually agreed. And he sounded excited about it.

Even though he wasn't looking forward to this dinner at all-and he'd made that very clear to Aunt May-Peter still put in some nice clothes and helped her set the table. (there was a lot of grumbling and sighing involved.)

When the doorbell rang, Peter felt like he was going to have a panic attack. But he answered it, breaking into a smile when he saw how ridiculous Wade looked, rain-drenched and carrying a giant bouquet of bright pink tulips.

"Did you...did you take those from Mr. Gordon's garden?" Peter asked, referring to the elderly man down the street who had very similar pink tulips growing in his garden.

"Maybe." Wade said sheepishly.

Somehow, by some God-given miracle, they made it through dinner. Wade was very polite to Aunt May, and she gushed over how she loved the flowers and how Wade was so kind and sweet.

Peter miraculously managed not to gag.

When it was (finally!) over, Peter walked Wade to the door, where Wade thanked him, maintaining his polite facade, just in case Aunt May was nearby.

And then they stepped out onto the porch into the rain and Peter grabbed Wade by the shoulders and kissed him. It felt a little like something out of a cliché, cheesy high school romance movie, but that didn't really matter.

Well, maybe it did a little.

But that didn't make it any less perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really edit this...sorry if there's any errors
> 
> feedback is appreciated
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> also, I definitely recommend Florence + The Machine, their music is pretty good, I had to do a bit of digging to find some songs I thought Bucky (and Steve) would like


	8. Sick Days and Wanda is NOT a Hooker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I recently re-watched iron man 2 so I was in the mood for some Pepper/Tony...

"Where are you going?" Pietro asked suspiciously, catching sight of Wanda on her way out the door.

Wanda rolled her eyes like a petulant teenager. "Out."

Pietro surveyed her choice of clothes. That dress was way too short. "Not in that you aren't. Go change." he snapped, shaking his head at her.

She sighed dramatically. "I'm an adult, Pietro, I can pick out my own clothes."

"Where are you going wearing that anyway? The strip club? Oh god, Wanda, don't tell me you're going to become a hooker." he demanded.

"Of course not." Wanda scoffed. "I'm going to...meet a friend for coffee."

Pietro raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Isn't that dress a bit skimpy for just coffee?"

"It's not skimpy!" Wanda countered defensively, hands on her hips.

"You're not going to meet that old British guy, are you? I told you to stay away from him!" he said, narrowing his eyes.

"He's not old." Wanda muttered. "Look, it's none of your business. I can take care of myself, Pietro." She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

Pietro yanked it back open and called out, "Be home by eleven!"

Wanda, who was halfway down the street by now, shouted back, "Okay, mom!"

 

"Hey, your boyfriend's here, Buckaroo." Darcy called.

Bucky blushed. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Sure." Darcy smirked. "If you need me, I'll be in the back."

Bucky tried to sneak subtle glances at Steve out of the corner of his eye. How did Bucky ever end up with a guy like him? Blond hair pleasantly messy, as if he'd just showered, his blue t-shirt tight across his muscular shoulders, paint-stained jeans riding low on his hips.

Bucky used to be that guy. Effortlessly well put-together, always impeccable, but he made it seem easy. Nothing was easy anymore. Now he was a mess. He hadn't combed his hair this morning, and he was wearing sweatpants under his apron and muddy sneakers.

Steve flashed him a bright smile when he stepped up to order. "Hi, babe."

Bucky snorted. "Babe?"

Steve shrugged sheepishly. "I thought I'd try it out. No? What about darling? Honey? Sweetheart? Hun-bun?" Now he was just teasing.

Bucky made a face. "No thanks."

When Bucky handed him his coffee, Steve laughed. He'd scrawled ' ** _Dork_** ' on the cardboard cup in black marker.

"Jerk." Steve said, pretending to be offended.

"Punk." Bucky muttered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Now get outta here, you're holding up the line."

Steve gave him a goofy little wave as he left the shop. Normally Bucky would be embarrassed, but this time he didn't mind.

 

Pepper was fine. Of course she was. She just had a little cold, that's all.

If a 'little cold' meant nausea, headaches, and a fever, then yeah, it was just a cold. But she went to work anyway. She couldn't possibly take the day off. She was the CEO. She had a company to run. If she took a day off, the whole company would probably collapse into chaos and bankruptcy. So she took some painkillers for her headache and insisted she was _perfectly fine_ , thanks for asking, if anyone inquired as to why she looked so tired and pale.

"Well, you look horrible." Tony said, sauntering into her office.

Pepper raised her eyebrows. "Hello to you too."

He slid into the chair across from her desk and propped his feet up, kicking the placard that read CEO out of the way.

"Um, no. Down." she said sternly.

"Feet off, Tony." He sighed and put his feet down. 

"So, can I help you with anything, Mr. Stark?" she asked sweetly. Well, she was trying to sound sweet, in a mocking sort of way, but she had to break off to cough.

Tony peered over the top of his designer sunglasses at her. "Hey, are you sure you're okay?"

She waved him off. "Yes, yes. I'm fine."

"Really? Are you sure? 'Cause, to me, you don't seem fine, actually." he said, reaching out a hand to check her temperature. She swatted his hand away.

"I'm fine, Tony-" She broke into a cough again. Tony grabbed the trash basket from beneath the desk just in time.

"Okay, sweetheart, come on. You're coming home with me. Yeah, that's right. Easy." He helped her to her feet, and she stumbled against him, dizzy and nauseous. Tony wrapped his arm around her, steadying her.

"No, no. I have to stay. I'm fine, I swear." she protested weakly as Tony helped her into his car.

"Pepper, stop. You're not fine. Take the day off. You're not invincible." he said soothingly. "And please don't vomit in my car."

Tony drove a little too fast for Pepper's taste, but the drive wasn't as long as it would have been had they obeyed the speed limit.

"Okay, come inside. Yeah, that's it. Come on." She leaned against him, and he helped her inside.

 _"Good morning, sir, Miss Potts. Is there anything I can help you with?"_ A crisp, automated voice greeted when they walked inside.

"JARVIS. Can you run a scan and check Pepper's temperature?"

There was a pause.

"She appears to be running a fever." JARVIS said.

"That's what I thought. All right, straight to bed." Tony ordered.

Pepper hesitated.

"Go on. Go. You know where the bedroom is."

She dutifully shuffled down the hall. Tony brought her some orange juice and crackers.

"Hey, why don't you change out of that?" he suggested, indicating her vomit-stained blouse. He tossed her his old _Black Sabbath_ t-shirt.

"Well, can you at least turn around? I'd like to maintain a few shreds of my dignity."

"I don't see why it makes a difference. I mean, I've already seen you without clothes-"

"Turn around, Tony." Pepper ordered, as sternly as she could manage.

He sighed and did as she asked.

The t-shirt was loose and baggy on her, but it was a lot more comfortable than her (probably ruined) blouse.

"You decent?" Tony teased, turning to face her. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you rest. I'll be downstairs if you need me. And JARVIS is always around." he said, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

She pushed him away. "Ugh, no, don't do that. I don't want you to get sick."

"Now, will that be all, Miss Potts?" he asked, moving toward the door.

"Can you turn off the light? Please?" she asked sheepishly.

He smiled and flicked the switch, bathing the room in darkness. Pepper sighed and leaned back against the pillows. The sheets smelled like him.

"That will be all, Mr. Stark."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm trying to get into a more constant writing routine, so updates should now be every Tuesday.
> 
> as usual, sorry if there's any errors, and feedback is appreciated, as always.
> 
> thanks so much for reading!


	9. The Adventures of Lucky the Pizza Dog and Darcy Gets Her Hopes Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really sorry I'm two days late with the update...school just started and there were a few technical difficulties so I didn't get a chance to post this...but here it is! I'll probably be back on schedule soon, so updates will now be EVERY SECOND TUESDAY. 
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> (feedback is, as usual, very appreciated)

If Angie had a dime for every time someone told her she was impulsive, she would be rich. She couldn't help it though. If something was on her mind, she had a tendency to just blurt it out. Sometimes that wasn't a good thing. Like, for example, she was definitely having second thoughts about inviting Peggy to meet her for coffee.

But it wasn't that she didn't like Peggy. She adored Peggy. Was that too strong a word? She liked Peggy's eyes and Peggy's hair and Peggy's laugh and her pretty English accent and her red lips that Angie very badly wanted to kiss. So Angie was only having doubts about asking Peggy out because she was really, really, super-duper nervous.

Their last date had been fun, but a little awkward. Maybe, now that Peggy had gotten to know her, she thought Angie was too loud. Angie had a tendency to be loud. Or maybe she didn't find Angie's jokes very funny. Angie knew her jokes were awful and super cheesy. She couldn't help it, though.

Well, it was too late to back out now, so Angie out on her pink earmuffs, remembering that Peggy thought they were cute, and practiced smiling cheerfully in the mirror. She looked like she was gonna throw up. She _felt_ like she was gonna throw up.

"Angie!" Peggy said, her happy expression looking not at all practiced.

Angie's nervous butterflies vanished at the sight of Peggy's bright smile, replaced by a weird, warm, fluttery feeling. "Hi, English." she said, and this time, her cheery grin was real.

 

"Chinese, pizza, or Mexican?" Laura asked, flipping through the phone book. "Wait, no Mexican. Not after last time."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me." Absentmindedly, he scratched Lucky's ears. "Let's get pizza. The Dog likes it."

"You two seem to be getting along." Laura commented, the phone balanced between her ear and her shoulder.

"We've bonded over mutual love of pizza." said Clint. "Hey, remember to get extra bacon." he added.

"Way ahead of you." Laura replied, grinning. "Extra bacon and extra cheese."

"I love you." Clint said. Laura flopped down on the couch beside him and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you more." she teased. The Dog whined and stuck his head in Laura's lap. She laughed and patted his head fondly. "I love you, too, Lucky."

They sat on the couch, Clint with his arm around Laura, the Dog curled in their laps-he was a little too big, but he didn't seem to care-and Clint flipped through the TV channels. He kept glancing at the door expectantly.

When the doorbell rang, the Dog jumped up and started barking furiously.

Clint frowned at him. "What's he doing?" he grumbled.

"Pizza's here." Laura explained, getting up to answer the door.

"Oh." Clint said, gesturing to where his hearing aids lay on the coffee table. 

Laura payed the delivery guy a little hurriedly, since an overexcited Lucky was literally snapping at her heels.

"Smells good." Clint mumbled. The Dog barked in agreement, nudging his nose against Laura's thigh. Finally, she relented and gave him a piece of pizza, which he quickly devoured.

 _Thank you_ , Clint signed, grinning, when Laura brought him a slice.

"Ugh, dog breath." she complained when Lucky jumped up to sit with them on the couch.

"Me or him?" Clint asked around a mouthful of bacon and cheese.

Laura laughed. "Both of you." She leaned in and kissed Clint's nose gently. Because no matter how much she teased, she really didn't mind either of them having bad breath. Well, maybe she did a little.

 

Pepper woke up tangled in Tony's sheets. She blinked groggily and squinted at the digital clock. She'd slept almost all afternoon. At least she hadn't vomited again. Actually, she was feeling a lot better now. She probably looked like shit, but her headache was gone and she wasn't nauseous, thank goodness.

 _"Good evening, Miss Potts. Are you feeling better?"_ JARVIS asked pleasantly.

"Yeah, thanks." Pepper said hoarsely, her throat still a little sore. "Is Tony downstairs?"

 _"Mr. Stark is in his workshop. I will inform him right away that you are awake."_ JARVIS replied, and the room went silent again. It wasn't long before Tony poked his head into the bedroom.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Feeling better?" he asked. His hair was mussed and he had machine grease on his jeans.

Pepper nodded. Tony settled onto the bed beside her. She should be getting back to her apartment, but she supposed staying a little longer wouldn't hurt. So she leaned her head on Tony's chest and he ran his fingers through her messy hair. He hummed something under his breath. It sounded like AC/DC, but Pepper wasn't sure.

She probably needed a shower.

It would have to wait.

 

"Hey, Clint, I didn't know you had a dog." Darcy said, bending down to pat the dog's head. "Hey, buddy, what's your name?" she crooned, stroking the Dog's neck. She frowned a little sadly when she noticed he was missing an eye. "Where'd you find him?" she asked, firing out questions sooner than Clint could answer them.

"Okay, one: he's a dog, he can't talk, so he can't tell you his name, which is Lucky. He's been hanging out around here lately, and I let him in one night, he stole my pizza, and I ended up taking him home." Clint grumbled.

"Lucky. That's a sweet name." Darcy said, scratching Lucky's ears.

Clint shrugged. "Well, I was gonna call him the Pizza Dog, cause he likes pizza, but Laura insisted I think of a proper name."

Darcy snorted. "Pizza Dog? Well, Lucky's certainly lucky Laura was around when you named him."

Lucky barked in agreement.

"How is Laura, by the way?" Darcy asked carefully. Clint could be...a little uncertain when it came to relationships.

"She's good. We're good." he said, tone equally guarded.

 _Touchy subject, huh?_ Darcy thought, smirking a little. She bade Clint and the Pizza Dog goodbye and returned to her battle station-behind the register.

Bucky wasn't at work today. She hoped he was okay, but she couldn't visit him until after her shift ended. And he wasn't answering any texts or calls.

"What can I get you?" she asked monotonously, for what felt like the trillionth time that day. Then she froze, surprised.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit._

Tall, thin, high cheekbones, dark hair, green eyes.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit._

"An iced coffee, an americano, and...whatever Jane usually gets." Loki said, jerking his thumb at the corner table, where Thor and Jane were deep in earnest conversation. Thor glanced up and gave Darcy an enthusiastic wave.

Darcy hesitated before jotting their names on the cardboard cups. An americano for Thor, (his name was followed by a little smiley face doodle) a strawberry smoothie for Jane, and an iced coffee for Loki. After a short internal debate, she scrawled her cell number on the bottom of the cup.

She shoved her glasses up her nose and handed Loki the cups. If he noticed, he didn't acknowledge it.

Now all Darcy had to do was trust to hope, which, to be truthful, she wasn't very good at.


	10. Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to title this 'Valentine's Day and Everyone is Getting Really Tired of Seeing Naked Flying Babies Everywhere' but it was a bit too long. 
> 
> But really, what's with the whole naked-flying-baby thing? It's not very...romantic?
> 
> This chapter's a little longer than the others, only because it's the last one. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and I hope everyone liked it.

Peter couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed as he stared at the drug store display of Valentine's Day gifts. Frilly red boxes of chocolates in the shape of hearts, scented soaps and candles, cheesy cards with cliché poems and doodles of naked winged babies on the fronts. Nothing that he could give Wade.

He found himself wondering if he should even bother. They hadn't been going out for very long. They'd only kissed, like, once. Maybe twice. And Wade didn't seem like the kind of guy who liked cards with naked babies on them. Or at least Peter hoped he didn't.

Eventually deciding he'd just buy Wade a pizza coupon or something, he left the store.

 

Clint had had enough of Valentine's Day by now. Even the coffee shop smelled like roses and overpriced chocolate, and everywhere you went there was more overpriced chocolate and hearts and cards addressed to 'That Special Someone.'

Once he walked into a store and saw something Nat would love.

He turned around and walked right back out.

 

Angie was a pretty good cook, usually. Sometimes she set the timer wrong and burned her eggs or didn't boil the spaghetti long enough. But she wasn't half bad.

However, she still couldn't fathom why she'd decided to bake Peggy a cake for Valentine's Day. Honestly, a card and some flowers would have been way easier.

But here she was, putting the finishing touches on the frosting at 3AM. The cake was perfect, but it was probably a bad idea.

 

Valentine's Day at Clint's was crazy busy, full of stupid, lovey-dopey couples making gooey eyes at each other while they sipped their coffee and held hands across the table.

Bucky hated it. Maybe he was just in a bad mood, or maybe he was just a tiny bit upset Steve hadn't texted or called him in hours. Not one message. No dumb jokes, no stupid pick-up lines, no long, sentimental messages proclaiming his undying love for Bucky.

Nothing.

Darcy was in a foul mood, too. Some guy still hadn't called her. Bucky didn't want to ask.

Sometimes their friends would come by, either to say hello or to gloat that they had dates on Valentine's Day and Bucky's date still had yet to show up.

Clint and Laura stopped by, followed by Natasha, then Rhodey, trailed by Tony and Pepper, the latter with their arms around each other.

The foreign twins ordered coffees to-go in their heavy accents. The girl was holding hands with a tall British man, her head leaned against his shoulder. He smiled at her fondly with strikingly green eyes.

Thor and Jane had huge, happy smiles on their faces. Thor was wearing a new t-shirt that Jane had bought him with some science pun on it that Bucky couldn't for the life of him figure out. Thor had one huge arm around Jane's petite shoulders.

It would have been cute, except Bucky was still pretty ticked off about Steve seemingly giving him the cold shoulder.

He sighed and rang up another customer's order, forcing a friendly smile.

 

Peter was gonna love Wade's gift. Hopefully. Because it would be really terrible if he didn't. Wade might die if he didn't. He had really bad self-esteem already.

He picked Peter up from school as usual, honking Martha's horn loudly and waving.

"Hi." Peter said breathlessly, hopping into the passenger seat.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Wade said enthusiastically, pressing a hurried kiss to Peter's cheek.

Peter blushed. He always did that whenever Wade did anything...affectionate. It was adorable.

"What, no surprises? No chocolates? No, nevermind chocolate. Chocolate is bad for you, Pete. Full of sugar. Sugar is bad for you." he said, wagging a stern finger at Peter. Before Peter could reply, Wade grabbed his present out of the glove compartment and shoved it into Peter's lap. "Open it." he commanded.

Peter reached into the gift bag, which had little Christmas trees on it because Wade didn't like any of the Valentine's ones...seriously, what's with the whole naked angel baby thing?

He took out the contents of the bag one by one-a pair of socks, which were bright pink and covered in hearts, a CD with all of Wade's favourite songs, a potted cactus, which Wade had only bought because it looked like an alligator, a box of store bought mini brownies, and finally, the card, which contained several photos of Wade's cat.

Peter laughed. "Um, it's great, Wade. I love it." Awkwardly, he held out an envelope. "I, uh, I got you something too."

Wade tore open the envelope with the excitement of a little kid opening presents at Christmas. Inside the card was a gift card to Wade's favourite restaurant, that drive-thru burrito place.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed, holding the gift card like it was a winning lottery ticket or something.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Peter said, taking Wade's face in his hands and kissing him.

 

"Honey? I'm home!" Clint joked, letting himself in to Laura's apartment.

"Hi." Laura said, hugging him quickly before bending down to pet the Dog. "And you brought Lucky. Aw. Hi, buddy! Who's a good boy! Yeah!" she cooed.

Lucky barked happily.

"These are for you." Clint said, handing her the bouquet he'd been holding behind his back.

"Oh, thank you! Here, let me grab a vase..." She disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards.

"And I almost forgot-this is for you. Happy Valentine's Day!" she said, handing him a box of chocolate. "I know it's kind of cliché, but it was very last minute-"

Clint cut her off by kissing her. "It's perfect." he said. "And you know what would go really good with chocolate? Pizza."

Lucky barked in agreement.

 

"Angie?" Peggy frowned when she answered the door.

"Hi, English. I brought you something." Angie said brightly. "For Valentine's Day." She held out her cake as a sort of peace offering.

An amused smile tugged at the corner's of Peggy's mouth. "Well, you'd better come in, then."

Peggy's apartment was neat and organized, and very tastefully decorated. Unlike Angie's. She had a purple microwave and couch cushions with puppies on them. There were a few picture frames lying around, pictures of Peggy's family, probably. There was  also a couple of Peggy with a tall blond guy. They were at an amusement park or something, both of them holding cotton candy and making silly faces at the camera. In another one, the blond guy was in a hospital bed, sporting a nasty black eye. Peggy was sitting beside him, both of them giving a thumbs-up to the camera.

"Who's this?" Angie asked, picking up the frame. "Old flame of yours?"

Peggy glanced over at the photo. "Yes, I suppose. His name is Steve." Catching sight of the pouty look on Angie's face, she grinned and quickly added, "We broke up quite a while ago. You won't have any competition. Besides, he's seeing someone else."

Angie brightened. "Oh. Good. Who wants cake?"

Peggy waved her hand in the air like an overexcited kindergarten. "Oh, me! I do!" she joked.

"Oh, you've got something on your face..." Angie said, flicking a blob of frosting at Peggy.

"Hey!" Peggy cried indignantly.

Angie giggled. Peggy looked ridiculous with icing all over her nose. Quickly Angie leaned in and licked it off.

"That's gross." Peggy muttered, wiping the rest of the frosting off her nose. But she was smiling.

On impulse, Angie leaned forward again and pressed her lips to Peggy's.

 

Bucky's foul mood persisted right through to the end of his shift. He felt lonely and miserable as he shrugged on his jacket and called a quick good-bye to Darcy.

He was fumbling with his apartment keys when he heard footsteps behind him. Panicking a little, he curled his hand into a fist and turned around, ready to catch his attacker off-guard with a punch to the face...

"Surprise?" Steve said, cringing a little when he saw the wild look on Bucky's face.

"Maybe that wasn't the best idea." Steve admitted, helping Bucky with the keys, since Bucky's hands were shaking a bit.

"Maybe not." Bucky muttered.

"Sorry." Steve said, once they were inside the apartment.

Bucky sighed. "It's...it's okay. Don't worry about it." He was more worried about the fact he'd almost punched Steve in the face.

Steve held out a card.

Bucky opened it wordlessly. Inside Steve had doodled a little picture of them together on Steve's motorcycle. He smiled a little at the drawing. "Thanks, Steve. I...I didn't get you anything. Sorry."

Suddenly he felt horrible. Steve had gone to all this trouble to surprise him. He'd obviously put thought and effort into the card. And Bucky had been pissed at him all day for ignoring him on Valentine's Day, then he'd tried to punch him, and he hadn't even gotten Steve a card.

He sat down on the couch, dragging a hand through his messy hair, and took a shuddering breath.

Steve sat down beside him. "You okay?" he asked, putting an arm around Bucky's shoulders.

"I...yeah." Bucky whispered, pressing his face into Steve's shoulder.

"Happy Valentine's Day, punk." Steve teased, kissing Bucky's hair. "

Jerk." Bucky muttered.

He almost said something else, something more. He almost said, _'I love you'_ but he didn't really need to. Steve already knew.

 

Darcy woke up the day after Valentine's Day in a bed that was not her bed.

She wasn't surprised, really. She'd probably hooked up with some random guy at a bar last night, both of them lonely and drunk because they were single on Valentine's Day.

She propped herself up on her elbows and fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand. She shoved them up her nose and looked around the room.

The events of last night came crashing back.

She'd been at a bar, getting drunk because she was alone on Valentine's Day. Same as every year.

Then she'd gotten a text from an unfamiliar number.

From _Loki_.

It hadn't been some random guy she'd hooked up with, it had been her _best friend's boyfriend's brother._

She glanced down at him, asleep beside her. The sharp angles of his face seemed softer in sleep, gentler. His dark hair was spread messily across his pillow, like fluffy, ragged feathers. She carefully brushed strands away from his eyes, which blinked open sleepily.

"Good morning." Darcy said, voice hushed. Guess she hadn't spent Valentine's Day alone. Well, first time for everything, right?


End file.
